


30 Day Unloved Ushioi

by bitchslappedmyself



Series: Writing Challenges [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 30 day writing challenged, M/M, Unrequited Love, thoughts of self harm, unloved challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5619316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchslappedmyself/pseuds/bitchslappedmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa just wants to get fucked and to forget the damn question that was just asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Were Right About Me

Oikawa used to love the rain.

He had loved the scent it left behind, the way the remaining droplets sparkled and shimmered underneath the sun. He had loved jumping in large puddles, seeing the rainbows that came after a storm. Oikawa used to enjoy curling up underneath a _kotatsu_ with tea and a book, reading and watching the water drip down against the glass.

Oikawa used to love the rain, and now it disgusts him.

If he thought long enough about it, Oikawa might be able to figure out when he started hating the rain. It might have been in his final year of high school, when his team lost to Karasuno and it started raining right after their lost. He could have started hating it after the first time he was fucked by Ushijima, and woke up to a storm outside. It might have been the time when the college he applied for, had worked so hard to get into and met all the requirements, rejected him. It had been raining that day too.

But really, it was the day Oikawa confessed to Iwaizumi, his childhood friend, the person he had once considered the love of his life, and the person who rejected him.

It had been raining that day too. Not the kind of rain where it storms, or the kind that people want after a break-up they didn’t want. No, it was the kind of rain that felt like rebirth, the type that happens in the spring, when the world is new and full of hope.

That was the day Oikawa began to hate the rain.

\----

 _It’s raining again,_ Oikawa thinks with a frown. The pattering of water outside woke him up first, and the sight of it brought a foul taste to his mouth.

He hates waking up to rain.

The sheets covering him slips away as he crawls out of Ushijima’s bed and limps over to the window, his ass still sore from last night’s activities. Oikawa presses his hand against the glass and watches the condensation appear around his fingers.

Oikawa looks over his shoulder and with dull eyes, studying Ushijima. He watches Ushijima’s back rise and fall softly with every breath, how his arms twitch in his sleep, the way the sheets crinkle whenever he moves. He studies the two dimples at the bottom of his spine, his back and arms that are covered with little scars from minor accidents he had from work and practice. Oikawa admires how the morning sun seems to only highlight the pretty parts of Ushijima and hides the parts that aren’t as attractive.

Oikawa wonders if Iwaizumi looks anything like Ushijima in the morning, maybe even better.

He climbs back into bed and lays on his side, arm propped up to support his head, the other resting on Ushijima’s waist. He watches Ushijima slowly wake up and turn his head to face Oikawa, olive eyes blinking open slowly, and the small smile he has once their eyes meet.

Oikawa mimics the smile and leans forward to kiss the chapped lips, and as their mouths meet his mind drifts back to the question Ushijima had asked.

_“You’re still in love with Iwaizumi, aren’t you?” Ushijima asked._

_“Huh?” was the reply. The question had came out of nowhere, and the fact that Oikawa was currently on his back, legs lifted up around Ushijima’s neck as he got fucked senseless, the question didn’t really seem appropriate for the situation._

_“I asked,” Ushijima started a second time, but his breath caught in his throat when Oikawa clenched around him in an attempt to shut him up. “Don’t do that,” he stated coolly, but his eyes dared Oikawa to do that again._

_Oikawa smiled and reached up to brush hair away from Ushijima’s face. “Sorry, you were saying?”_

_In response, Ushijima thrusted in again harder, and Oikawa felt the breath get knocked out of his lungs. He loved it when Ushijima got rough with him._

_“Are you still in love with Iwaizumi?” he asked again._

_“I don’t think that’s the kind of question you should be asking right now,” Oikawa whispered. He tightened his legs around Ushijima’s neck and threw his arms up, grabbed him by the shoulders,and with a grunt, pulled himself up to sit in Ushijima’s lap. Both shudder with pleasure the new position brings, and Oikawa begins to move his hips along with Ushijima’s thrusts._

_The question still hangs in the air._

_Ushijima opens his mouth to ask again, but Oikawa silences him by pressing their lips together and shoving his tongue into Ushihima’s open mouth. The action surprises his partner and Oikawa takes that moment to push Ushijima down. Ushijima’s still in a daze, but Oikawa doesn’t care as he settles into the position. He lifts his hips up and down to meet Ushijima’s thrusts, and watches as his partner’s eyes close and loud gasps leave his mouth. Oikawa grins and flips hair out of his face, glad that Ushijima was being rendered unable to speak._

_Oikawa just wants to get fucked and to forget the damn question that was just asked._

Ushijima pulls away from the kiss and lets his hand rest against Oikawa’s face, his thumb running over the slightly tanned skin. He runs his thumb over Oikawa’s lips and pushes it inside a little bit, and grins when Oikawa opens his mouth a bit more.

Ushijima moves to lay on top of his partner, his right arm beside Oikawa’s head. He pulls his thumb out of Oikawa’s mouth and leans down to kiss him, his hand already pulling at Oikawa’s hips. Oikawa can tell that Ushijima knows he’s still sore from last night, but right now neither of them care.

Oikawa moves his head to the side when he feels Ushijima’s lips leave his own and begin kissing his neck, layering more hickies over fading ones. He watches water drip down the window, watches the rain fall from the dark sky and land on the ground in small splashes.

And as Ushijima thrusts into him again, Oikawa looks back up into the olive eyes. Ushijima’s face softens and he touches Oikawa’s face, his hand rubbing away tears from his face. Oikawa didn’t even realize he had begun to cry until he felt Ushijima push them away.

He leans down and kisses away the tears, and now Oikawa’s opening sobbing.

The sound of the rain hitting the roof and the ground only makes him cry harder.

He feels Ushijima pull out and gets lifted up into his lap. Oikawa curls up instantly when he feels his partner’s arms wrap around him. Ushijima simply holds Oikawa as he cries, not caring that his shoulder is getting covered with snot and tears. Oikawa’s nails were digging into Ushijima’s skin and leaving red crescents, but he was glad that his partner was saying nothing about it, or asking why Oikawa was crying in the first place.

He already knew why.

 _You were right about me,_ Oikawa thought bitterly.

  
_You’re always right about me._


	2. I Was Wrong About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His roommate was going to be gone all weekend.
> 
> His phone was dead, so even if someone wanted to contact him, he wouldn’t know of it.
> 
> He had liquor and clean razor blades that were just begging to be used.

Oikawa was tired of living. No, exhausted. His heart was heavy in his chest, and he wanted to sit down and cry a thousand tears, but not a single drop of water would fall from his eyes.

Was it too much to ask of his friends to come over every now and then and keep him him from breaking down? Was it too hard for someone he actually likes to stop by occasionally just to check on him? How difficult was it for someone to pick up the phone and ask, “Are you okay?”

Apparently it was extremely difficult for his so-called friends to do anything like that, otherwise Oikawa wouldn’t be spending his Saturday afternoon locked in his dormitory room, curled up on the ground and shaking, a bottle of whiskey a container of razor blades on the kitchen counter.

Oikawa hadn’t opened them yet. He had promised Iwaizumi he would stop cutting once he started university, and he hated breaking promises.

But Iwaizumi isn’t here to come in and kiss Oikawa’s scars and hold him and tell him that it’s alright and how strong he is and that he can survive another day of not creating another scar on his skin.

His roommate was going to be gone all weekend.

His phone was dead, so even if someone wanted to contact him, he wouldn’t know of it.

He had liquor and clean razor blades that were just begging to be used.

Oikawa had to use the sofa for support while standing up. It was really hard to walk forward without his head spinning, so he slammed his hand against the wall to keep his balance while waiting for his vision to clear. After every couple of steps, he had to pause and take a deep breath and will himself to

Eventually he ends up standing at the kitchen counter. Oikawa clings to the edge of the counter for dear life, and prays that his legs don’t give out. All he needed to do was grab the razors, stumble into the bathroom, and then he wouldn’t need to stand anymore and everything would start to feel better.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to pick up the container of razors, the door was unlocked and in his surprise, Oikawa’s elbow hit the bottle of whiskey and he crashed to the ground along with the bottle.

“Oikawa, what are you doing on the ground?”

Oikawa looks up and feels his stomach churn. Ushijima is standing in the open door, looking down on him with a puzzled expression.

Oikawa opens his mouth to reply, but winces and whimpers when his left hand moved onto a large piece of glass and the jagged edges cut into his palm. He lifts his hand and watches with fascination as blood spilled out from around the glass, winding down his wrist before dripping onto the ground. He pulls the glass a little bit and sighs with satisfaction when pain blossoms from his palm and more blood falls.

_I’ve missed this._

“What are you doing?” Oikawa blinks in surprise and looks up to see Ushijima pulling a medical kit from the cupboards. He watches Ushijima pull out a bowl and cups, filling the cups with water before setting them aside. Ushijima kneels in front of Oikawa and carefully pulls out the glass shard. Oikawa winces and bites his lower lip as Ushijima begins pouring water over the cut, the bowl underneath to catch the liquid that falls. A piece of gauze is pressed to the wound, and Oikawa bites his lip harder to stop himself from crying.

He feels Ushijima pick him up into his arms and carry him to the bathroom. The medical kit had been placed in Oikawa’s lap, and he isn’t sure when, but he’s still in shock over the fact that Ushijima is here and doing something nice.

Once in the bathroom, Ushijima places the medical kit on the bathroom counter and sets Oikawa down, the latter slumping against him since the loss of blood was beginning to make him feel weaker than before. Ushijima turns on the sink and lets the water run. He pulls the gauze away and sticks Oikawa’s hand under the running water. Oikawa tries pulling his hand out but Ushijima forces it back under the cold water. Oikawa gives him a glare, and Ushijima glares back harder. “Let the water wash away the blood,” he orders, and Oikawa weakly nods. He barely pays attention to what Ushijima was doing. Instead he watches the water wash away the blood, and nearly throws up when he sees the jagged and deep cut on his palm.

Ushijima turns off the sink and pats Oikawa’s palm dry with gauze then applies antibiotic ointment to the cut. “I’m not going to ask what you were planning on doing with the razors,” he says while pulling out a needle and thread from the medical kit. “This may hurt a bit, but please don’t move.”

Oikawa tilts his head to the side in confusion. Then his eyes fly open and he gasps when the needle enters his skin. He hisses between his teeth and struggles against the urge to pull his hand away. Ushijima’s grip on his wrist tightens as he continues pulling the needle and thread through the cut.

Finally, he ties the last knot and pulls out a sterile bandage, glove, and medical tape. He wraps the bandage over the stitches multiple times before sliding the glove over Oikawa’s hand, wrapping the medical tape around his wrist to close off the opening of the glove.

Oikawa stares at the bandaging as Ushijima packs up the medical kit. “Keep your hand above your heart,” Ushijima mutters. Oikawa immediately does so, unsure of what would happen if he doesn’t do what Ushijima orders and unwilling to find out.

“Can you walk back?” Oikawa nods and tries to take a step forward, but his legs buckle and he starts falling forward. Ushijima catches him and sighs. “Guess not.” He picks Oikawa up again and places the medical kit in his lap. “Hand up,” he reminds Oikawa.

Oikawa thinks nasty words and directs them to Ushijima, but does what he was told to. Even though Ushijima’s facial expression doesn’t change at all, Oikawa just knows that he’s pleased over how well Oikawa is listening to him, and it pisses him off more.

Ushijima enters Oikawa’s dorm and sets the setter down on the couch and goes to the small kitchen, careful to avoid the large puddle of whiskey and broken glass. He fills a plastic bag with ice, wraps it in a dish towel, then walks back to Oikawa and hands it to him.

“This will slow down the swelling.” Oikawa takes the bag of ice silently and places it against the glove, grimacing from the wave of cold he felt. Ushijima went back to the kitchen as Oikawa sank into the sofa and closed his eyes.

“Make sure to keep your hand up.”

Oikawa’s eyes fly open and he glares at Ushijima’s back. “I know,” he growled, but sat up and pouts while keeping his hand up.

Oikawa pulls out his phone and plays games on it while Ushijima cleans up the mess in the kitchen. Oikawa can’t help but wonder why Ushijima was even here, or how he even knew what to do when someone had a cut that needed stitches in the first place.

“Why are you here?” Oikawa asks, not at all kindly.

Ushijima isn’t fazed by Oikawa’s tone. “Semi told me you don’t like being alone and sent me to spend the weekend with you so that you don’t do something stupid. I wasn’t sure what he meant until I saw you on the ground with broken glass and a box of razor blades on the counter. “

Oikawa opens his mouth, then closes it and goes back to pouting. He wasn’t wrong, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t like hearing someone hint at what he was going to do.

Ushijima walks to Oikawa with a glass of water and a couple of pills. “These will help with the pain, and this is a sleeping pill.”

Oikawa takes the glass and sips at it, ignoring the pills in Ushijima’s outstretched hand. “I’m not taking those.”  
“Take the damn pills, Oikawa.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows raise, and he starts giggling. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear!” Ushijima’s face remains stoic, but Oikawa can see a hint of a smile when he finally takes the pills. Oikawa looks at them, then looks back up at Ushijima and asks, “Can I have a couple more sleeping ones?”

The hint of a smile leaves. Oikawa sighs. “At least I asked,” he mutters, throwing the pills into his mouth and almost swallows them dry until Ushijima presses the glass to his lips and Oikawa reluctantly drinks.

“You better not tell Iwaizumi.”

“I’ll let you tell him.”

“Good.” Oikawa grabs the blanket that was laying on the arm of the sofa and bundles it up into a shapeless pillow and shoves it under his head. He curls up and closes his eyes, keeping his left hand above his chest. He hears Ushijima settle into one of the chairs and a book open. The main lights go off, but from behind his eyelids he can see the lamp light on.

“I was wrong about you,” he murmurs. His eyes flutter open and he struggles to keep from smiling when he says that Ushijima is wearing reading glasses.

Ushijima looks up from his book. “What do you mean?”

“You’re actually really nice, and you look cute in glasses.” Ushijima smiles. Oikawa’s mouth drops and he mutters, “Scratch that, you’re adorable.” Ushijima laughs, and Oikawa feels the same amount of happiness from when he was told he was going to be an uncle.

“I’m going to sleep,” he mutters. “Wake me if I’m needed.”

“Go to sleep Oikawa.”

“I take back what I said earlier. You’re meaner than Iwa-chan.” Oikawa grins when he heard Ushijima sigh, but is completely unprepared when Ushijima kisses his temple.

“Go to sleep, Oikawa.” Oikawa opens his eyes and with his good hand, grabs Ushijima by the collar and kisses him.

This time, Ushijima is the one looking surprised when they pull apart. Oikawa grins widely. “Good night, Ushiwaka-chan!” he says happily, curling back up onto the sofa and closes his eyes.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” but Oikawa can hear the smile in Ushijima’s voice.

“And good night, Tooru.”


End file.
